Day 2 is what my partner in crime called Concert Day. This was our day that we actually enjoy as many shows as possible being the perfect balance between being not drunk enough and black out wasted. The day started with Does it Offend You, Yeah? as I’ve heard oh so much about them. Once I heard, “Let’s Make Out,” I was less offended and more bored to tears. However two bands I had heard little about but were absolutely highlights of the entire festival: Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s and Foals. Margot, etc. was a 8 piece rock conglomeration that, surprisingly, utilized every members’ talents perfectly. They were the perfect mesh with no one overstepping their bounds and everyone performing with absolutely ferocity. And they’re all nice guys (and girl). Foals rules. I cannot wait to see them again, their set in an entirety. Obviously taking their set seriously, their indie dance music really strikes a chord. Hell, it might just be the sound of that snare drum, but they’re definitely doing something right.

I saw “Who the fuck is Dierks Bentley?” flyers and shirts and signs all over the place the whole weekend, and quite frankly, I avoided him at all costs simply because of the marketing scheme that I’ve seen all too often. Though in hindsight it quite makes sense, or at least from the story told (“what was zany lollapalooza doing booking a country act, wahoo?!), at the time, I couldn’t give two shits. Sorry Dierks. Instead I saw the Gutter Twins. They are hardly twins at all actually, a band that basically is stooped on the shoulders of two men who were in bands that you were supposed to know. Their music is the epitome of build-up with no climax. I’ve been with girls like that, but at least you can write them off to inexperience, not a lack of interest.

The show of the weekend was with no surprise Explosions in the Sky. They came out, said who they were, what they were doing there, and thank you and then rocked everybody to the bone. No banter, no wishy washy bullshit, nothing but the music they knew was good enough that every possible second of their set should be filled with fucking rock. The soft moments leading up to heart wrenching climaxes all with no use of voices. And this is no novelty act like many instrumental bands today tend to become. These guys are rock music. They deliver every fucking time. I don’t know a single song name, but would buy a ticket to see them anywhere in a 30 mile radius: inside, outside, on a fucking curb.

Okkervil River has good songs, in fact they have a bunch of them. Their live performance from a distance of waiting for Broken Social Scene, however, seemed less than impressive, though because of their quality of songs I would certainly like to see what they have to offer again as it could have been my distance that kept me from enjoying their performance fully. That i didn’t enjoy Okkervil River was a slight disappointment, but not nearly as much as Broken Social Scene. I’ll probably get some slack for saying anything about the band that has in the recent years had nothing but acclaim. They were…just boring. I believe at least part of their massive “super band” crew (which I don’t believe is a super band at all, just a bunch of artists forming as a collective who all happen to have bands on the side, and have all subsequently become at least partially famous because of the fame earned by BSS) was not present, and that may have accounted for the lack of energy. I was planning to watch the entire show, obviously as I had staked out a position instead of watching other shows, but grew bored within 20 minutes, and decided to sit through Lupe Fiasco to get a good spot for Rage Against the Machine.

I could write a thesis on Rage and this performance alone. It was a surreal experience beyond what may have been covered in the blogosphere (which by the way is the most disgusting word in any language, including German). About 100 feet away from the main stage, people were peeing in water bottles and leaving them on the ground without tops. An hour at least before the band came on, you were already standing closer to strangers than you’d think possible but that didn’t stop people from trying to get in front of you. Every other minute there was a surge of some hundred people pushing to get closer, followed immediately by a surge the opposite direction. It was more of an angry mob waiting for something to set them off.

The lights dropped, and the air changed, for a brief minute it got colder somehow, and everyone screamed. The same members as back in the 90’s stood before us, just now jacked. the drummer and bassist must have gained 50 lbs. of muscle each, and looked like machines more than men, the bassist with a half sleeve tattoo plain black with what looked like a pivot point left flesh toned on his shoulder. They played everything exactly on point, every single fucking note was perfectly timed and tuned, and every drum hit was precise and 7 times harder and louder. The mix of songs enlightened those to all the amazing songs they had made in their tenure, a mix of tunes that only people planning on seeing Rage would recall.

So they were great. Right? Maybe it was that I was staring at the onslaught of beautiful women throughout the entire weekend such that I hadn’t noticed the massive amounts of assholes around. They all were pretty centralized for Rage, you could point them out as they were the ones starting moshpits around people who had no interest in moshing, pushing crying girls into the center of pits as they were just trying to get out of harms way. It was clear these people had no idea what moshing was about or that by and large it was dead. The idea is to pick people up when they fall on the ground so no one gets trampled, not throw defenseless people into danger. The thousands of people pushing to get close to the stage, even the band noticed how fucking crazy the crowd was as shown by the 4 seperate times they had to stop the show. Stop the show, almost unable to continue and ask people to step back 5 feet. “Take that shit out on the streets!”

Rage Against the Machine at their prime was more than a band ever could be. They weren’t the most famous band in the world though their message permeated America. They weren’t the most talented band ever, though you’d be hard pressed to say that combined they didn’t bring a new level to rock. They were self aware, smart, and knowledgable. They used their music to spread messages about their political beliefs. Their hardcore fans sought knowledge about politics both here and abroad, about wrong doings locally as well as globally, and to take action. Somewhere in the obscurity of the proverbial frat house, their message of dissent for peace was lost.

What I heard from this crowd was astonishing. Upon hearing De La Rocha ask the crowd to step back, as people in the front were getting crushed, I heard utterances of “So this is the day that Zach goes soft.” The crowd was surprised that he wanted to help people get out of harms way and allow everyone to have an enjoyable experience. “Please, brothers and sisters, if you could just take a few steps back. If you don’t we’ll have to stop and we don’t want to do that. We want to play everything we have for you,” and people were still getting crushed towards the front. As a result of all this crowd pandemonium, the band gave up some energy. They tried to get things going, but just like a drunken make out session at a party that gets thwarted by interupting partygoers, this performance couldn’t get off the ground like it should have.

As for the third day of the festival…truthfully I was hung over. I was exhausted from the weekend and battered from Rage, certainly not enough to qualify into an entire nother post. So here goes.

Blues Traveler Ruled. I was surprised as anyone else, though I have in the enjoyed several of John Popper’s works and think him to be very talented. The crowd that he drew was unbelievable though, thousands of people watching him, and everyone dancing. It was a very cool scene. Beyond that, Nine Inch Nails and Kanye were competing. I started watching Nine Inch Nails set, who began very strong with Closer somewhere near the beginning, just as it started getting dark and accompanied with a very cool light and tv show, but dwelled about 30 minutes in. I walked over to see Kanye’s set out of sheer curiousity. Ugh. “The Most Amazing Light Show Ever,” huh? I walked over there as he was just preaching some bullshit about some shit I couldn’t care to listen to. I somewhat recall him refering to himself on the same level as Michael Jordan or Jesus or Stevie Wonder. It’s great he thinks so highly of himself. I nothing him. And as such choose not to comment on his music.

I hope to see all the beautiful women back there next year.

I-68 East for 100 some odd miles dropped me off with barely enough time to set up my tent before sundown on the side of Marvin’s Mountaintop in the great state of West Virginia. Why is WV great? Well, they have Sheetz…?

This was AllGood’s 12th Anniversary held in the same exact location with the same basic premise. They’ve only slightly veered away from the strictly Jam-Band scene, and as we all know, if you don’t change, you’re bound to stay stuck in the past. Sadly, this festival seems like it has gone by the wayside. It’s no surprise that the Jam culture is primarily neo-hippies who consider themselves as such only because they smoke boatloads of weed despite causing SOOO much litter. I’m all in favor of these people, good job. My problem lies in only that this festival has become more about the drugs and the drug culture surrounding the music than the actual music and performances. That isn’t to say there weren’t any great performances, but I doubt most people there would remember them. This is due to, at least partly, the familiarity of the festival, the comfortable rut it’s dug for itself. Every festival, especially jam oriented, will be about drugs. There’s no denying it. They go everywhere together, just like music and drugs always have. But when everyone there couldn’t be more excited for the arrival of Phil Lesh’s set without knowing what instrument he plays, there’s something wrong. (Before anyone asks: Bass. Phil Lesh plays the bass guitar.)

It’s become a specter of what it wanted to become, a black market weekend and nothing more. Clearly I was too idealist once as a teenager to believe in the Jam scene, believed it to be that difference in music I was yearning for. (And just to clarify, I was a completely sober teenager). For years, it helped me, captivated me as moe. and Phish and Keller rose to fame with lengthy, exciting, and interesting takes on music. I don’t know when it happened, but the genre on whole became the same regurgitated nonsense. Talent is obviously not the problem. Perpetual Groove’s set proved that on the Early Arrival day as the night was just beginning to set in. They had a massive endurance to the set, and every member was on top of their game. Really, this should be held as one of the best performances of the festival. The combination of precision with the glorious smoke screens and unplanned fireworks lighting up sky behind the stage from wasted patrons made it an amazing performance, but that it was too early for most people to get drugged up made it feel more a performance than a loud side-show, which is really what the rest of the weekend consisted of. The Brazilian Girls were next, and despite the lead singer’s obnoxious speaking voice, she captivated with her multicolored-backlit white puffy dress and “Pussy Pussy Pussy Marijuana,” an inside joke for the rest of the weekend. For my money, the drummer, guitarist, bassist and singer are the band. That keyboardist is really just there as some modernist confusion, something to set them apart but more often hinders than helps. But this set was made much much MUCH more enjoyable by the super hot lesbians that were making out right next to me. I take back what I said about the keyboardist; if the band can get that hot of girls to dance like that virtually on top of me, I’ll buy all their albums.

Last set of the early arrival night was so upsetting. The Join (Shields and Shearer from The New Deal with the Benevento Russo Duo) was supposed to be awesome! For the second year in a row, the Duo was robbed, put on a hapless set through no fault of their own. Last year, for those not in the know, Bob Weir ran into their 45 minute set at least 15 minutes when he came out for an encore while the Duo had already started playing. Imagine the Duo playing on stage, and then the sound guys cutting them off for Weir to come back on stage and perform an encore. So this year, AllGood gave them a great late night spot where no other shows could disrupt them and all eyes would be on them. Performance aside for a moment, the sound guy fucked them. For at least 30 minutes if it was a second, all four members of The Join sat on stage with their thumbs up there ass, just ready to play and no sound would come out. If the set could have a hand motion assigned it, it would be the index finger up for “TURN UP THE FUCKING SOUND!!!” Russo was clearly pissed, and as he should have been. It was embarrassing for the festival. Finally when they got the sound basically working…the performance fell short. The formula of a drummer and keyboardist is amazing because of what both bands do with so little. The sounds and songs that the bands can make with only two people is amazing. If you put the two drummers and two keyboardists together, it’s significantly less amazing that they can come up with all these sounds. It just ends up sounding like a mush when it should sound like a mileu. Really, I’d pay four times as much to see any of these artists perform solo than to see them all bounce and improv between two chords for an hour. To exacerbate, there was this incredibly morbid fog that fell upon the crowd in the beginning of the set. I was second row and I still couldn’t see anything. Add to this the confusion with the sound guy, how anyone knew there was a show going on without any audio or visual is beyond me.

I made sure to be front row for the Avett Brothers. Their performance at Bonnaroo was one of the breakthrough performances of that festival, and certainly they would not disappoint. They began with the only song that had drums for the performance, the lead singer on the drums. As far as I can tell, the two actual brothers (unless the asian cellist is adopted) are primarily on the banjo/lead vocals and guitar, but all four members contribute to the overall commitment to the tunes, and if there is anything this band has an overabundance of, it’s commitment. Every ballad written only to swoon unsuspecting girls was ached through in impeccable olde time garb. Every dance number, upbeat stringed jambaroo made the stage sound like the pouncing of WWE with the help of the guitarists conveniently placed hi-hat. Because of the intensity of the four instrumentalists on cello, banjo, upright bass and guitar, they hired a man whose sole job was to change strings, and he had a very busy day. Over-under, he changed about 700 strings in the course of an hour. Now, I wouldn’t consider buying a record of there’s probably ever. The combination of bluegrass instrumentation with quaint themes and albeit clever lyrics lends well to 20-something girls, and shows no real excitement for my particular market. That aside, I would pay to see them live any day of the week. Aside from the bare bones but brilliant stage show, there should be a whole bunch of 20-something girls at their shows.

Just touching on the highest of highs, the most notable of concert experiences, one simply must stand in awe of Phil Lesh (he plays the bass you know.) The Grateful Dead were an amazing band for 30 some odd years. Though they only had one top ten hit, and if I’m correct barely at that, they had a massive influence on the audience/band relationship as well as a huge influence in underground music and drug cultures. They’ve been cited as basically founding “jam” music. And Phil Lesh was one of the founding members, playing the bass guitar for decades until the unexpected death of lead singer and four-fingered front-man Jerry Garcia (apparently drugs are bad). So you have to treat Lesh as some kind of rock royalty even if you don’t care. It was nice for the families, it was nice for the old ass hippies, and the younger drugged out kids didn’t seem unhappy in the slightest. Unfortunately, it was boring. It was a perpetually slow drag that didn’t sound like songs, just hours of noodling at best. At worst, or times between the jam being on point, just noise like several players practicing at the same time.

Right after their set was SOJA. Those guys can write a catchy tune. With the vocalist sounding like Michael Jackson and there being an onslaught of dreadlocks (even on a white guy which never looks right to me), they had the best possible spot for their music. They were right between everyone watching Phil Lesh and the headliner, Gov’t Mule. Really, it’s hard to describe, but they really did put on a great show even for someone not familiar with their stuff or ever having seen them before.

Keller Williams played with Moseley, Droll and Sipe, all of which may be new Pokemon characters. Keller Williams has such a cosmic dilemma. On one hand, the man is awesome. He is an awesome instrumentalist, great guitarist in virtually every incarnation of the instrument, and an entertaining performer to boot. He can do so much by himself and 13 instruments, who needs other performers? For years he’s made his own albums and toured with little else than himself and his gear (including his looping gear). NOW ON THE OTHER HAND, after a solid 10 years at least, it gets a little old. The performance becomes more of a novelty how great and difficult the material is. Solution: Add some equally awesome performers. Well, now the whole point of Keller being such a great solo artist is lost on these other people, and the entire looping schtick is lost. It’s like one of those at home funnel cakes; funnel cakes are awesome, but if you’re eating one while watching Desperate Housewives instead of in-front of a ferris wheel, you’re just a fatass.

Widespread Panic was good, and sounded much more like a cohesive unit, but for whatever reason I think of him right next to Phil Lesh, right in the same snug category. It was a lot better to dance to than Lesh’s set, which at best had people sway more than dance, and the Trucks, Derek and Susan Tedeschi came out to jam along for a few songs.

Bonerama was a lot of fun for those who stayed for Sunday despite the disenchanting and hellish rain storm. The New Orleans brass band seemed well constructed, and utilized to the best of their potential. They started with a bunch of covers, the national anthem with lead boner effecting the sound so it sounded like a guitar, and then a cover of War Pigs from Black Sabbath

Alright, that’s enough of that. Allgood is fun. It’s a festival, you have to try to not have fun to not have fun, that is unless you get dehydrated (it was hot as a motherfucker.) There are so many festivals out nowadays its hard to believe you couldn’t find one on its way up than one that’s on its way out, unless you know the difference between sour diesel and northern lights.